


A Momentary Lapse of Reason

by Rroselavy



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-16
Updated: 2011-05-16
Packaged: 2017-10-19 11:16:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/200238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rroselavy/pseuds/Rroselavy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakkai does a bad, bad thing. Can Gojyo forgive him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Momentary Lapse of Reason

**Author's Note:**

  * For [amai_kaminari](https://archiveofourown.org/users/amai_kaminari/gifts).



> A Help_Japan fic for Amai_Kaminari. I hope I did your prompt justice, dear! Prompt: Vienna Teng's "Eric's Song." Betaed by animom.

Hakkai peeled off the latex dish-washing gloves, draped them neatly on the bib of the sink, and surveyed his handiwork. The kitchen was spotless, dishes and pots and pans all put away, just the way he liked it. He glanced through the archway that opened into the living room. It, too, had benefited from his early morning cleaning spree. The slipcovers were off the couch and airing on the clothesline in the yard along with the rag area rug. The worn floorboards had been scrubbed to a golden brown. After breakfast, he’d set things in order out in the yard. There was raking to be done and garden beds to be prepared for planting. He looked forward to turning over the loamy soil and breathing in the damp earthy scent.

He’d plant herbs this year since there wouldn’t be another epic journey to take them away from the cottage for several years. Sanzo had secured that promise from the Sanbutsushin and, while it had originally only seemed to apply to him, a well-placed kick to the shins from Goku had extended the promise to all of them.

Everything would be okay, he thought, if he could just pretend last night didn’t happen. His gaze shifted to a pair of work boots, incongruously discarded -- left haphazardly next to Hakkai’s favorite wing-back reading chair. He stepped into the living room and stopped in front of them, hands on his hips.

It had all started with them. Well, no. That wasn’t exactly the truth: the boots were where it had ended. It had started when he first opened his eyes after being gutted to crimson ones full of promise and a gruff yet not unfriendly spoken, “You’re the last man who’ll be sharing my bed.”

Even then he’d felt a stirring that Kanan had never elicited.

At first Gonou had been able to dismiss it as gratefulness. Even though he’d wanted with every fiber in his body to die, this stranger, who, because he’d carefully stuffed his innards back inside, now knew him more intimately than anyone ever had. And he’d done so as a simple act of selfless compassion.

How many other people would have -- had already -- hurriedly retraced their steps when they’d stumbled upon Cho Gonou’s prone form, bleeding out on the pavement?

Not Sha Gojyo.

Hakkai would have liked to believe that Gojyo had paused that rainy night, and fought a battle with himself before scooping him in his arms, but he knew better than that. Gojyo never thought twice when it was his safety on the line. He was loyal to a fault. As much as Hakkai abhorred the triteness of the expression, how else could he explain why Gojyo had willingly allowed Banri to sell him out? What else could explain why he’d joined Hakkai, Goku and Sanzo on the mission to India and back?

And last night, Hakkai thought grimly … it wouldn’t have been possible for Gojyo to think twice; not the way he’d descended on him. Last night, he’d broken that trust, splintered it into tiny little pieces.

Adding to his mortification, Gojyo had been so kind and considerate; reverent, even. As if Hakkai had been a virgin. And yes, there was that technicality, as he’d certainly never been with another man, but still, he was an experienced lover. Surprisingly, Hakkai had found it rather easy to get over the fact that he would be the one being penetrated (he supposed that wasn’t such a big concession, especially given his demand -- _Gojyo, fuck me_ the “please” moaned into Gojyo’s mouth as an afterthought). In retrospect, one could even say he’d been asking for it.

After he’d caved, Gojyo’s gentleness had been pure hell. His slow, tentative thrusts maddening, to the point where Hakkai, in his frustration, unambiguously reminded him that he wasn’t a woman, and would prefer to be fucked than made love to, and rather hard, thank you very much. Gojyo was more than obliging to that demand. He’d pinned Hakkai to the bed and proceeded to pound him to within an inch of his life. It had been marvelous; Gojyo proving every one of the boasts he’d ever uttered about his sexual prowess to be true. In fact, even in the cold reality of the morning after, his behind still smarting, he could acknowledge that actually, Gojyo had been quite modest in his estimate.

Now that wasn’t a very good place for him to return to. He immediately felt a spike of jealousy -- one he knew he’d no right to -- towards all the nameless women that had come before him, and would surely follow, all of them beneficiaries of Gojyo’s expertise.

Frowning, he skirted around the boots and made to straighten the curtains that he’d pulled back from the front picture window earlier. They were lopsided, another mar to the perfection of his neatly cleaned living room. He’d get after Gojyo to move his boots. He’d probably just put them on when he went out with the shopping list Hakkai had prepared for him, which was now neatly laid out at his place at the kitchen table.

If luck were on his side, Gojyo wouldn’t remember much of the previous night. Oh, Hakkai was sure Gojyo would remember he’d done _something_ with _someone_ , but he knew that there had been times when Gojyo had arrived at the breakfast table after a night of carousing, bleary-eyed, with a sheepish grin plastered on his face. Three, to be precise. And Hakkai hadn’t been above feeling just a tiny big smug on one of those occasions when they’d run into a forgotten woman later that day at the farmer’s market. Though, he did feel a twinge of guilt when her face crumpled at the realization that she hadn’t been all that memorable. Now, he felt a kinship with that hapless woman. As much as he didn’t want Gojyo to remember, Hakkai still wanted it to be memorable, since he was sure it would be the only time.

If Gojyo did, however, remember all the details, Hakkai was fully prepared to accept the blame and to beg for forgiveness. He knew his transgression was great; he only hoped his momentary lapse of reason wouldn’t jeopardize their friendship.

“Hey.”

Hakkai spun round. Gojyo was standing in the archway. He was wearing jeans (a clean pair), and a red and black checked flannel shirt tucked into them. Peaking out from between the open buttons was a bright, white ribbed tank top.

“Coffee’s on the stove,” Hakkai croaked, his mouth suddenly too dry. Gojyo really had no right to look so good; even his bed-head was sexy. Hakkai’s mind unhelpfully reminded him of just how Gojyo’s hair had become so unkempt with images from the previous night: the view Gojyo presented as Hakkai had straddled him. He felt the heat of a blush warm his face.

“’Kai, are you alright?” The concern in Gojyo’s voice would have broken his heart, if he’d had one. As it was, how could he possibly be all right after what he’d done?

“After you’ve had breakfast, there’s a list of things we need.”

Gojyo’s brow knit, then his expression softened. “If this is about last night …”

Now Hakkai felt all the color draining from his face. “Y-yes, about th-that,” he stuttered. “It won’t happen again.” It was a poor excuse for an apology, but it was a start.

“Oh, really? I kinda liked it. I kinda hoped--“

“Gojyo, I forced myself on you,” he said carefully. “I took advantage of your condition!” Hakkai tried to keep his voice even but failed.

“Is that what you think?”

“You--you were drunk.”

“Not drunk enough not to know what was happening.”

“Yes, but--“

“Hakkai,” Gojyo said patiently. “You’re over-thinking this.”

Now his blood ran a bit cold. He hadn’t seriously considered that if Gojyo _did_ remember, it wouldn’t be _meaningful_. That Gojyo would just be able to brush it off.

“I see.”

“Mm, no, I don’t think ya do. I can see the wheels turning in your head.” Gojyo approached him. “You’ve been cleaning all morning. And you’ve made me a ‘honey do’ list. That’s always a bad sign.”

“The house was a mess, and the cupboards are bare.”

“Not any more than usual. Look, I can’t change your mind about how you feel about last night, but I for one, am glad it happened.” Gojyo stopped in front of Hakkai. He glanced at his boots.

“You couldn’t even untie your laces.”

“But that doesn’t mean I couldn’t have put the brakes on. Just because my fingers weren’t working, doesn’t mean my brain wasn’t.”

“Ohhh,” Hakkai exclaimed as he followed Gojyo’s logic.

“And if that’s all I get, I’ll have to be happy with it. Because feeling so good being with you like that, and seeing you smile -- actually smile -- not that tight little grin you usually have, was worth it. But, I’m just saying, I’d be happier if …” Gojyo’s eyes slid away.

“If what?” Hakkai asked softly.

“If … remember when we first met?” Gojyo asked suddenly. “I said you’d be the last man to share my bed. I didn’t know it then, but I meant it. You an’ me, we _get_ each other. I like that about us.”

Hakkai laughed. All thoughts of him ruining their friendship fled. It was going to be all right -- more than all right. “You really should have some coffee, then we can go to market. And I want to stop by the garden center--“ Gojyo’s hands landed on Hakkai’s shoulders, stopping his babble. Hakkai swallowed hard. “Gojyo, I’m not proud of what I did last night, or, rather, the _way_ I did it.”

“I get that. But I’m still glad it happened. Aren’t you?”

“Oh God, yes,” Hakkai blurted.

Gojyo laughed. “But ya know, next time, I’d like to be sober.”

Hakkai leaned forward and brushed his lips against Gojyo’s. “I think that can be arranged. Let me turn the coffeepot off.”


End file.
